Seasonings Change

The fall season ushers in all my favorite things. Cozy blankets, movie nights, a fire in the fireplace and finally being able to drape my body in layers of sweaters and coats. The house feels fresh with renewed order, peace, and structure. You can stay inside. Summer is fun but it can feel chaotic and random. If summer is a fling, fall is where things start to get serious. Don’t get me wrong. I love a good vacation or camping trip. All the various activities of summer tend to keep me out of routine and routine is where I thrive. As the weather starts to get colder the focus shifts inward. Our house, our family rituals, and my personal habits realign with the start of a new school year.

Fall is arguably the best food season and soup is the greatest fall meal. It’s the perfect process for a slow day. The pattern is always the same. First the base, then the broth, the protein, and the finishing touches. It’s therapeutic. I become a magician making beautiful things happen out of pantry staples and only a few fresh ingredients. You have to take your time. A good soup can’t be rushed. Making soup brings up memories with my mom. One of the soups that we would make the most when I was growing up was mom's chicken enchilada soup. It’s cozy, comforting and full of spice. It’s filling enough to be a meal on its own. The toppings are what make it most delicious.

Growing up, Mom and I were basically the Gilmore Girls except for the fact that we were slightly less dramatic and had fewer love affairs. We were each other’s person. Most of our time was spent together. We both prioritized our relationship. Arguments were pretty rare from what I remember. I didn’t challenge her very much even in my teens. I didn’t think I needed to. Things were pretty chill and we were both happy with that.

Mom moved to Montana after I graduated and for the first time we were doing life apart from each other. Things were different. I needed to take the skills and life lessons she had provided me and find my way in the world. It was a new challenge to find the right balance. It took a while for us to acclimate to our new style of relationship. We saw each other during visits and we communicated over the phone. We had to learn how to be more intentional with our limited time together. At times the distance was confusing and lonely but we eventually found our groove.

Then I got married and I became a mother. My relationship with my mom changed again. She was not only my mom but the grandma to my children. There were more variables at play. We didn’t spend a lot of alone time together in this busy season of life. Sometimes there would be miscommunications and we hurt each other's feelings. We had some difficult conversations. Over time we opened up about our feelings which strengthened our relationship. There is a new depth and appreciation that we have for each other. A few months ago my husband and I moved to Montana. After living far away from my mom for 7 years we are finally living in the same community again. I feel a balance in my relationship with my mom. We have settled into our new roles and lives. Wading through the ups and downs and honoring and respecting each other’s differences brought us to a good place. A new place.